Better This Way
by Cutsceneaddict
Summary: Athena Cykes comes face-to-face with her mother's killer-the dark man who betrayed and broke her heart. With the death sentence hanging on the judge's raised gavel, will justice finally be served? The only surety is that Simon Blackquill is determined to face execution before he admits the truth... but not until he's opened his heart to his greatest condemner.
1. Author's Note Please Read!

_*****SUPER IMPORTANT*** THIS IS KEY TO UNDERSTANDING THIS FIC! PLEASE READ THIS WHOLE PAGE! YOU WILL THANK ME LATER!**_

I originally wrote this fic a few months before Dual Destinies' release in America; therefore, the fic was written almost entirely on speculation, with only a few known facts that I had to work with. Because of this, many of the details in this fanfic are either incorrect, or deviate from the official cannon.

_*****Spoiler Warning! Contains MAJOR end-game spoilers, so proceed with caution!*****_

Here are the only facts that I had to work with at the time I wrote the fic:

1. Simon is NOT guilty

2. Athena and Simon share a connected past (more on this is a second)

3. Simon has a sister (that's all I knew; I didn't know her name or anything)

4. Fulbright is possibly the killer

5. Edgeworth returns for the final trial

6. Simon worked with Athena's mother

And so, with that information, I began to put pieces together and came up with a theory. My theory was close to cannon, but not accurate. I theorized that Simon had been convicted of murdering Athena's mother 8 years ago by using his samurai katana on her (I had read something about Athena's mom being "dismembered" on a special "healing chair" or something, and this is where I went with the theory).

Where things deviate is that I also theorized that Athena grew up believing that Simon had killed her mother; not knowing that he had actually taken the blame in order to protect her (he believed she would either be accused of the crime, or had perhaps accidentally wounded her mother fatally).

I knew almost nothing about any of the character's personalities, so, unfortunately, that's off too. I didn't want to re-write the fic at all, so I've kept things the way they are now. There are other little details I got wrong, such as mentioning that Simon had his white hair patch when he's younger (he doesn't, but it's a key part of my fic, so just play along, please).

I chose to make Fulbright the villain in this fic because I'd read a vague hint somewhere that he was the final killer. I knew practically nothing about Fulbright at the time, aside from the fact that he existed, so his personality is _completely_ out of character. He's really sinister in this fic and not goofy at all. Oops. I'd also heard something about the final killer being known as the "Phantom" so I went ahead and tied these two together (which turned out to be cannon). Also, somehow Fulbright ended up being like the Chief of Police in this story. Not completely sure how he got that promotion, but anyway…

This fic provides vague case details, and this was my intention. I didn't want to focus on the case itself, but rather on Simon and Athena's connection. This is why the case/evidence itself is vague at best and may not even make a lot of sense. I knew practically nothing about the final canon case in the game, so all of the evidence/details were made up. You may notice I used the "digital evidence" gimmick that is seen in the Ace Attorney film. I thought perhaps the game would feature something similar (since it took place many years later).

Aside from little tiny localization changes (such as changing Mari's name to Metis), I've kept this fic true to its original writing when I first penned it three months ago. It's different. It's AU, but I hope you find something enjoyable about it. The continuous cries for Cykesquill fanfiction sort of drove me to overcome my shyness and throw this fic out on the internet.

Read and review, please! Just keep in mind that this fic is meant to heavily deviate from the cannon story (because I didn't know any better at the time). As a result, this fic pales in comparison to the cannon story.

Lastly, this fic contains some CykesQuill hints, though it can just as easily be viewed as a strong, loving friendship, I think. Take from it what you will.

Thank you for taking the time to read my _long_ explanation.

**Fic is rated a strong T for subject matter, violence (some stronger violence implied), blood, and language (never cursing, just some tough talk), and EXTREME melodrama. ;) Please let me know if you think I should raise the rating. There's nothing incredibly graphic, but the subject matter may be more appropriate for 16+.**

**I do not own the cover art picture. All rights to the wonderful pixiv artist who created it (sadly, I do not know who that is or I would link to him/her).**

**Go to the next chapter to read the story.**


	2. Better This Way

Better this Way

Athena wanted to tear her eyes away, but he riveted her immobile with his gaze-a patient, unwavering stare, as distant as the eyes of a dead man and twice calm. Perhaps because he was... or was fated to be. "Dead man walking," they called it. Right now, he was nothing more than a breathing cadaver, and he knew it.

Twin pools of autumn brown beckoned her to sink into their tranquil, intense depths-depths as deep and convoluted as a raging river, trapped so long beneath winter's ice that it was content to remain thus... and bury its secrets in a deadly current.

And now she felt herself torn from reality, chained to this man and his bloody past, jerked along mercilessly through the frigid stream of hidden motives and intense suffering.

The voice of Detective Fulbright came through muffled, as though separated from her consciousness by that thick ice in the defendant's gaze.

"Premeditated, unprovoked, and totally cold-blooded, Your Honor. My department checked the facts for you and as you can see, there's no other conclusion. There's more blood on this man than you'll find on a slaughterhouse. And you can bet every drop is innocent."

Another voice: polished, accented, and unmistakably indignant at the moment, "_Objection!_ Mr. Fulbright, that is a gross over-exaggeration. You will stand down and not take upon you the task of the prosecution."

"The defense agrees with Prosecutor Edgeworth," Phoenix Wright's voice hummed close to Athena's ear as he stood at her side, "I must ask Your Honor to reconsider all of the evidence submitted by the defense-"

"You doubting my department, lawyer?" Fulbright's voice burned against Athena's mind, "This man is a blood-thirsty dog! He's the lowest kind of criminal! We have the evidence, the prints, the security footage, the murder weapon, even the admittance of the accused-!"

Athena's blood rushed in an ice-cold shockwave through her veins.

_W-what...?!_

Faint echoes assaulted her ears: Edgeworth slamming on the desk, Phoenix shouting at the top of his voice, the crowd rising to their feet like an angry mob, the judge bringing down the gavel over and over and over... with each subsequent blow coming slower... and slower... and slower... as though time itself were freezing over in the wake of the defendant's frost-laden eyes.

Wasn't this murderer afraid? Wasn't he shocked by the contention? The least bit sorry for the pain and suffering he had caused her? Caused the world? Did he feel nothing at all?

Her eyes stung-burning tears threatening to spill down her face.

The ice in his gaze broke, almost enough to let the rushing undercurrent flow through.

He had seen the pain in her face... somehow... some way... and he had shown compassion.

_No!_ _No! Never!_

_Pretended _to show compassion. A monster felt nothing. A killer could mask emotion like an actor masked a character.

He had dared to act sympathetic towards her, trying to blind her with false pity. He'd betrayed her eight years ago-acting like her friend-only to turn his blade against the one person she loved the most. In the end, the two people she had cared for more than anything else in the world were lost. One, slain by the hands of a murderer. And the other, the murderer himself.

"I admit to the killing."

His voice came through with such clarity, as though they two held a telepathic connection.

Simon Blackquill had just confessed to killing her mother... with the world as his witness.

A tsunami-like roar swept from either side of the audience, crashing in the mist of the court with a violent, turbulent rage. Blurs in police uniforms rushed to both ends of the court, striving in vain to hold back the overflowing river of enraged onlookers, prepared to bring Simon Blackquill to their own justice.

"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!"

_Guilty... Guilty... Guilty..._

The ground-shaking chant twisted around Athena's mind like a serpent, suffocating her thoughts, igniting her own blind rage. Her heart fired blood through her veins like a machine gun, pulsing faster and faster as the rumbling chant reached a deafening roar:

"Death! Death! Guilty! Guilty! Death!"

"_Murderer!"_

Simon's face never faltered. Not even the corner of his mouth twitched in an automatic snarl or smirk. But the ice in his eyes broke apart, letting the rich, dark undercurrent sparkle beneath the shadow of his black hair.

Simon Blackquill was smiling.

Smiling, like he'd won. Like he'd gotten away with it. Like he'd challenged fate, beat the system, and strutted away with the world in his chained grasp.

And Athena hated him.

Teeth clenched, fingernails digging mercilessly into her palm, eyes hot and moist with threatening tears, Athena shoved past Phoenix and began closing the gap between herself and Simon Blackquill.

"Permission to approach the murderer?!" she screamed at the judge, her voice shrill with emotion.

The court fell silent. Deathly silent.

"Miss Cykes, you will return to your bench at once!" snapped the judge. "Don't approach that man! That is a court-appointed order! Do you hear me, young lady?!"

Phoenix lunged over the bench, bringing his fist down in a panicked slam, "_Athena!"_

Fulbright clenched his teeth, waving his arm frantically, "Stupid girl! Seize her! Don't let her approach the convict!"

Vaguely, as though through a haze, Athena could make out the dark shapes of officers, abandoning their positions against the crowd and rushing towards her.

She didn't care.

The world was made up of a straight path. A path leading to her mother's killer. A murderer. Simon Blackquill. He blocked out her reality, her rationality, her reason. He drove her insane with his wicked eyes. His silence was like the screaming of a helpless child to her ears.

She lunged. She struck him. Hard. Right in the jawline. A ripple of satisfying heat coursed through her body as his neck snapped to the side in order to compensate the blow.

"_Murderer!"_ she screamed, the hatred in her voice fueling another concrete hit. A curtain of tears blurred her vision, but she continued to strike blindly, her voice hitching to a shrill screech between heaving breaths, "Y-you... traitor! I hope y-you d-die like... like the... animal you are! I s-swear I'll... r-rip that... stupid s-smirk o-off your... face, you-!"

The killer moved like lightening, whipping both arms high above his head and bringing them back down with Athena between himself and the chain that bound his wrists. Athena felt the breath leave her body in a terrified gasp, as two powerful hands wrapped around her slender form, crushing her flailing arms tight against the convict's chest.

For a moment, naked terror froze her in place, rendering her completely unable to resist. One wide hand reached around her back to engulf her shoulder. The other crossed the opposite way, to curl around her waist. Just the mere touch of those pale, bloody hands melted every ounce of courage she thought she had. She wanted to vomit.

Pandemonium reigned around her, but Athena was almost oblivious to it. The murderer was determined that he be her world-her entire world-and that nothing else would matter. Was his mind so twisted that, even with a death sentence, he was bent on obsessing over her, forcing her to acknowledge him?

This... this was the ultimate cruelty.

"So, the 'dead man walking' still has a few knives up his sleeve..." It was Fulbright's voice, spiked by a spiteful laugh.

Athena clenched her fists, shutting her eyes tight as her face pressed against the dark folds of the killer's coat, now damp with her own tears.

Blackquill's chest vibrated with a low hum, his voice surprisingly calm, but threatening, "Call off your lapdogs, Rob."

Athena's eyes opened wide with shock. _That voice_... Somehow, it was entirely different than the one she'd been hearing. The pitch was the same. The tone identical. But... something had changed. Some sincere alteration rode in the undercurrent of the words...

...Something... almost human.

The judge held up both hands disarmingly, "What's this madness? Mr. Fulbright, you will order your officers to stand back. Miss Cykes' life takes priority here!"

Athena heard a single set of approaching footsteps, and then a low, menacing voice-a missive that only one man was meant to hear:

"Delay all you want, Blackquill. This standoff won't save you. I'll see you to the table yet."

And now Fulbright sounded utterly transformed. Almost as though officer and convict had swapped roles. The detective had adapted the most sinister, malevolent voice Athena had ever heard...

"Back off, men!" Fulbright's voice echoed with the pounding of steps as the officers withdrew. Several clicks snapped somewhere behind Simon's back, out of Athena's sight. She knew the sound well. The hollow _snap_ of a dozen pistols being cocked. She could almost feel the cross-sights trained on her unprotected captor... He was all that stood between her and a volley of deadly bullets.

In a panic, Athena struggled, unable to free her elbows from where they were locked firmly against his broad chest, "L-let me... _go!"_

His breath melted in a delicate curl against her cheek. His voice a harmless whisper-unthreatening, careful, and soothing, as though he were genuinely trying to calm her.

"'thena..." he murmured to her ear.

* * *

Athena reached deep into a bag of chocolate chip cookies, stuffing another one in her mouth. Hearing the approach of voices, she quickly hid the bag behind her, doing her best not to crinkle the wrapping in her nervous fingers.

"And this is the processing lab where you'll be doing most of your training," said her mother's voice from around the bend. "But with your potential, you won't be working there long."

Athena heard the door open, turning in time to watch her mother step through, trailed by a sharp young man with dark hair. Mother had been talking about finding a research partner. Was this supposed to be him?

Athena stood on tiptoes, peering over the top of a workdesk, curious about the newcomer, but also cautious about being caught with the last bag of forbidden cookies.

"Ah! Miss Cykes, what are you doing in here, young lady?"

The culprit jumped with fright, losing her balance and crashing to her seat on top of the cookie bag.

"Sorry, mama!" she hollered from behind the desk, not daring to get up and expose her stolen treasure.

Metis Cykes soon loomed overhead, both hands on her hips. A mock frown creased her eyebrows, but she couldn't hide the smile that twitched at the corner of her mouth, "I told you the labs were off limits today. What am I going to do with you, child?"

Behind her mother's figure, the young man stepped forward and Athena was given her first real look. Never in her life had she seen such dark hair-black, lush, and shimmering, like the feathers of a raven, with a snow-white patch on one side. And the eyes... so sharp and intense. They reminded her of the hawk poster she had hanging above her bed. His were hawk's eyes: pointed, focused, all-seeing... mesmerizing.

"Athena, stop that. It's rude."

Her mother's voice snapped her back to reality. She blushed when she realized she'd been staring-gawking, more like-at this odd newcomer.

"It's alright, Mrs. Cykes," the young man stepped past her. "I'm a stranger here, after all. I understand her uncertainty. I would feel the same way."

Athena heard her heart pounding as she craned her neck at the tall stranger standing over her.

The buzz of Metis' cellphone made her jump. Her mother impatiently fished out the intrusive device, pounding on the "receive" button, "Hello? ...Yes, Irene... Well, I'm busy at the moment... Giving him the tour now... Yes, it's important. You'll have to tell them to come back later... Urgh... Fine, I'll be there. But tell them to make it quick."

Snapping the cellular closed, Mari folded her hands together apologetically and turned to the young man, "I'm sorry. The repairman just arrived and is asking to see me immediately about a leak in our ventilation. I'll be back in about five minutes."

"Take your time, Mrs. Cykes," the young man held up a reassuring hand. "I'm more likely to die of old age than boredom here."

Stowing the phone in her labcoat, Metis threw Athena a warning look, "Behave yourself." Then she was gone.

Nervously, Athena popped another cookie in her mouth, chewing to bite back her shyness.

The young man dropped to one knee, laying a wide palm against his chest, "I'm Simon. What's your name?"

With her mouth full of cookie, Athena managed a muffled, "...'thena."

"Nice to meet you, 'thena."

She stared, wide-eyed at the massive hand held out to her. Slowly, cautiously, she reached out. Her small, crumb-covered fingers only managed to wrap around three of Simon's own. His hand engulfed hers in a gentle, formal shake.

That handshake... so sincere... he might as well have been shaking the hand of the president. Mentally, Athena scratched his name off the list of "strangers," adding him to her small list of "friends."

"...Why's your hair like that, Simon?"

He withdrew his hand, massaging the white patch with his fingers, "Do you mean this? It's a birthmark." Leaning down further, he offered, "Go on. You can touch it. It won't bite."

That fluffy white blaze, so stark against a lush, ebony backdrop, was too much for her to resist. Stretching out her hand to its max, Athena set her palm against the spot, rubbing it curiously with her tiny fingers. A smile beamed against her face, "It's soft like a little cloud. I like it! It's your little angel spot, Simon."

Peering up at her from beneath wavy, dark bangs, Simon raised his eyebrows, "My 'angel spot'?"

"Yeah..." she murmured, gently petting the mark, as tenderly as she would stroke a puppy, "Mom says that when I was little, an angel came down from heaven while I was sleeping and touched me right here," she explained, pointing to her cheek. "That's why I've got such a big smile! So I think an angel must have touched you right here on your head and that's why your hair's white."

Simon chuckled. It was the most beautiful, handsome sound Athena had ever heard, "And all this time I thought it was a birthmark... Thank you for correcting me."

Folding her hands in modest embarrassment, Athena glanced up shyly into the hawk eyes, "I like you, Simon. Can we be friends?"

"Of course. I'll be working for your mother now, so you'll see me quite often."

Reaching into the cookie bag beneath her, Athena fished out a half-crumbled bit and offered it proudly, "Here, have a cookie. But... shhhh... don't tell mom. She might get _really_ mad."

Delicately taking the morsel, Simon held a finger to his lips, "I won't breathe a word. Ah, but I think she's coming back now. Stay low. I'll keep her distracted." He winked.

Athena giggled, hugging the bag to her little chest and ducking low to dash further behind the desk, "Thanks, Simon!"

"I'll see you soon, 'thena."

* * *

"...'thena."

Athena loosened her fist just enough to pound it weakly against his chest, "How dare you?" she hissed. Then louder, her voice breaking, along with a fresh flow of tears, "_How dare you?!"_

Somewhere behind her, Phoenix's voice arched in restrained panic, "Don't struggle Athena. Just hang on. We'll get you out of there."

"Name your terms, Mr. Blackquill," Edgeworth quipped, professional and seemingly unaffected. "We will honor them, in exchange that you release the young lady."

"Would you listen to him?" Fulbright mocked, "'Name your terms.' Hah! Have you lost your mind, prosecutor? He's a convict, a murderer! He'll break that girl's neck and never think twice about it! And you want to talk terms with him. What kind of joke are you?"

"The professional kind, Mr. Fulbright," Edgeworth glared levelly over the rim of his glasses. "Unlike some 'particular' men in your department."

"Why you-!"

The judge brought down his gavel in vain as the crowd roared to life again, stirred by the tension.

Athena felt herself shrink, small and forgotten in the arms of this merciless killer... this man that had earned her trust-her friendship-only to betray her. Her heart pulsed strong and erratically, like a frightened hare's-so strong it might burst through her ribcage at any second. Each beat seemed more like two, as though her heart sent an echoing shockwave through her body.

Then she realized.

It wasn't her heart's echo. It was the killer's heart, pulsing relentlessly against her slim chest. Each beat reverberated painful and strong, sped by some naked terror that was completely unreadable in his face and body.

Simon Blackquill... afraid?

Athena ceased struggling, so hypnotized by the deep, rhythmic _thrum_ that struck against her chest and prodded against her sensitive fingertips. She didn't even flinch when his right hand moved from her shoulder to her hair.

The sturdy hand cupped the back of her head and then traced its course down to her shoulder, smoothing her hair. His touch was so tender, so soothing, that for a moment she wanted to melt into his arms like the little girl she had once been... eight years ago.

What had come over her?

"...W-why?" she whimpered, her voice tiny and afraid.

Those hands. So enormous and strong. Capable of crushing steel and ripping her apart. She'd seen those hands wield a blade as though it weighed as much as a toothpick. She'd seen them lift concrete blocks and snap thick branches like straw.

But when she'd been in pain… When she'd been scared or hurt or sad... those were the hands she wanted around her. Those meek hands-powerful enough to destroy but wise enough to refrain. Those hands that she'd seen lift a baby bird back into its nest. Hands that had dried her tears, and applied bandages to her scraped knee with the most patient, loving care.

Hands... that never struck back when wronged.

As he stroked her hair again, she realized for the first time, that he was no longer holding her against her will. There was no pressure on her. His arms around her felt tender and non-oppressive, almost as though... he was... embracing...

_No._

Athena trembled, and his arm firmed around her back, supporting her.

Her lips quivered, uselessly trying to form words and force them out.

"D-don't! I don't… I d-don't want to r-remember-!"

"Shhhhh..." he soothed, "...It's going to be alright."

* * *

Athena cowered in the shadow of the wall, blackness engulfing her on all sides, pinioning her to the spot with fear.

Her ears still screamed with the horrible noises that had burst from her mother's personal laboratory.

"_Athena, stay here and don't move! Promise me! Do you understand?"_

Those had been her mother's words, just ten minutes before she disappeared. Athena had kept her promise not to move. Something dark and frightened in her mother's eyes rooted her to the spot, even long after the cacophony had erupted, followed by this deathly silence.

With her heart beating like a drum, Athena dared to lift her head a little and peer around the corner. The hallway stretched ahead, eventually vanishing into unlit darkness. Beyond that lay her mother's lab-the place she had vanished.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Athena whimpered into the stillness, "...M-m-momma?"

Silence.

Rising to her feet, Athena held her hand against the wall and tip-toed down its length. At the laboratory door, a pungent, horrific stench invaded her nostrils. Strange scents in the laboratory were not unusual, but this one didn't feel right. It didn't _belong_ there.

Creeping inside, Athena ducked her head, trying to make herself as small as possible, as she navigated the network of workdesks and cubicles. The sharp, iron stench grew stronger each moment. Peeking around the bend, Athena blinked at a dark form, lying still in her mother's latest invention-the "healing chair."

"...M-momma? ...Is that you?"

Dashing forward, Athena gradually came to recognize the still face in the chair, "Momma!" Grasping her mother's shoulder, she shook her, desperation pinching her voice, "Momma! Momma! Get up! Momma!"

The scent engulfed her now. Climbing up onto the chair, Athena put her slim arms around her mother's neck, sobbing, "Momma, why aren't you waking up? Please get up... please..."

Wetness began to seep into her clothes, causing her to pull back in shock, red stains covering her entire body. Athena lost her balance and, flailing her arms, crashed to the ground. Something glimmered in the corner of her eye.

Turning on her side, she found herself facing a long, shimmering blade, dyed red with blood.

She screamed.

Footsteps staggered behind her, rushing, fast, but uneven, "Athena! 'thena, where are you?!"

Cowering in a trembling ball, she tried to disappear, but to no avail. Tears wetted her cheeks, their bitter salt merging with the irony blood that spattered her face and clothing. A dark, broad form stepped over her and quickly knelt at her side, placing a wide hand against her narrow back.

"Athena? Are you alright?"

Gasping between stuttering sobs, Athena wept brokenly, "S-simon... I-I'm s-sc-scared... Wh-what's w-w-wrong with... M-momma?"

His head whipped towards the healing chair and he shot to his feet. With his back to Athena, Simon leaned over the limp form, staring for several seconds. His shoulders quaked, fists shaking against the arm of the chair, "No... Oh, dear God, no... help me! Help this girl... I beg you-!"

Athena stood on quivering legs, trying helplessly to peer over his shoulder, "S-simon... who are you talking to?"

But he only rested his elbows against the armrest, sinking to his knees and grasping his head in his hands.

Athena began to walk towards him, but her foot knocked against something metal-the sword. Bending over, she grasped it by the handle and started to drag it over to him, "Simon, i-isn't th-this-?"

Outside the window, sirens wailed and six cars screeched to a halt. A disco-ball of red and blue flashed through gaps in the closed curtains, shimmering along the glossy workdesks.

Simon's head turned to the side, the red and blue glare smoldering in his hot eyes.

Athena rushed over to Simon uncertainly, the blade scraping against the polished tile as she dragged it along, "S-simon, wh-what's go-going on...?"

Fear flooded his eyes. Like lightening, he struck out at her, knocking the blade from her hands, "No! Don't touch that!"

The katana clattered to the floor. Athena froze.

For a long while she stood rooted to the spot, hugging herself, eyes wide and unblinking. Simon may as well have slapped her across the face.

After a shaky inhale, Athena bellowed, "B-but i-i-i-it's your s-sword! I-I w-was just br-bringing it t-t-too y-y-y-!"

Diving to his knees, Simon swept her into his arms-the tightest, most secure hug Athena ever remembered. His heart pulsed like a machine gun against her ear and his chest heaved and gasped for air as though he couldn't breathe. Stretching her tiny arms as far as she could around his chest, Athena felt her trembling slowly disappear. Something wet splashed against her cheek.

"Simon?" raising a small hand, she stroked the lush, black hair, "...are you crying?"

He fell silent a moment, as though he had stopped breathing and held her tight, pressing her face to his shoulder.

Somewhere outside, a muffled voice shouted, "Surround and secure the building!"

"W-what's going to h-happen?" Athena's hands reached up to encircle his neck.

Sliding his arm beneath her legs, Simon lifted her easily, rushing to the far corner of the room. Smoothing back her orange locks with a tender hand, he crooned, "Shhhhh...It's going to be alright. They won't take you away."

Athena heard him open the storage room door and step inside. Lowering her to the floor, he held her close, "Stay here until you hear no more sound. Do you understand?"

She nodded furiously against his shoulder, "O-okay... B-but you'll be here with me... r-right?"

Releasing her, he stepped backwards to the doorway, partially closing it after him, "I'm sorry..."

Then, he pulled it shut, leaving her in darkness.

Pressing her face against a slim crack in the doorframe, Athena was able to make out Simon's black shape as he ran back to her mother's body. He stooped, picking up a long object that shimmered in the darkness. The blade flashed, slicing again and again, singing a dirge of steel as it cut through the air, the chair, and...

"_Momma!"_ Athena screamed, jerking on the doorknob, but to no avail. It had been locked from the outside.

A jarring, splintering _thud_-the sound of a door behind kicked in-infiltrated the room. Light shot across the expanse, illuminating Simon's now-blood-soaked clothes and face.

"_Freeze!" _someone screamed. _"You're under arrest for murder!_ _Hands in the air!"_

_Murder?_

The word tumbled around Athena's innocent mind like a curse word. A haze of tears blurred her vision, making it impossible to clarify what was going on through the pencil-thin gap.

Clicks resounded beyond the door, like a dozen angry insects readying their stingers. A swarm of black shapes leapt on the blur that was Simon Blackquill. A wince-worthy _thud_ cracked painfully against her ears, and then another as one of the figures crashed to the ground, snapping their back against the tile.

"Cuff him, boys. Show him our best!" the laughter in the man's tone sent a chill up Athena's spine. After a moment, he added, with a sneer, "And give him the buckle gag. After all, the chief's not around... and what he doesn't know can't hurt him. Murderers get... 'special'... treatment. It's your lucky day, boy."

Athena heard the cuff locks snap in place, followed by a painful blow and a grunt of muffled agony.

Another, more timid voice cropped up, "S-sir, are you sure this is really necessary? He doesn't seem to be posing a threat to us. What if the chief finds out? We're not supposed to-"

"Shut up, idiot!" the sneering voice snapped. "Do you see the chief? Do you? _I_ am in charge here and I will have these murdering curs fear my name! Now... get that buckle gag on him... and make it as tight as he can stand. I don't want to her one word from his lying mouth!"

Athena's forehead slid slowly down the length of the doorframe as she sunk to her knees. Burying her face in her hands, she screamed for all she was worth.

She screamed for her dead mother.

She screamed for her blood-soaked dress.

She screamed for fear of the dark, for being trapped behind a locked door, forgotten.

She screamed for the horrible, iron stench.

She screamed for the man with the sneering laugh.

She screamed for Simon... who had broken her heart... who had...

Something pounded on the door, causing her to gasp. Scooting backwards until her shoulders came in contact with the opposite wall, Athena watched as the locked door rattled and shook. Something snaked through the crack by the side post, slashing down, once, twice-!

The deadbolt cleaved in half and the door burst open. Blinding light from a high-power flashlight shot into her eyes, forcing her to throw her arms up over her face. A slender man with arching hair, and a wide, intimidating stance stood silhouetted in the doorframe.

With a conclusive _hmph_, he lowered the beam. Purple blotches danced before her eyes, partially obscuring the man's blonde hair and white suit.

"So, it looks like we have a survivor after all..." he smirked triumphantly, snapping closed the knife that had severed the bolt, "...and a witness."

Reaching a hand out towards her, he softened his voice, "Come with me, girl. You may call me Mr. Fulbright. Don't worry. He won't hurt you where he's going. You'll be safe with me..."

Past the man's figure, Athena watched as a mob of police hauled a dark form from the ground. With his arms bound painfully behind him and his teeth clenching a spiked, iron bar cinched tight by a thick buckle around his skull and neck, the culprit bit back a tortured growl that tore from his throat. Blood streamed from a gash in his forehead, staining the white "angel spot" crimson.

_Simon... Simon Blackquill... who had broken her heart..._

_...who had murdered her mother._

* * *

"Shhhhh...It's going to be alright," he repeated, adding in a softer tone, "They won't take you away."

He still held her firmly to his chest, but no longer to restrain her. Instead, she felt a warmth in his embrace-a security that she had never felt from anyone else. The pressure on her arms was gone. Her face no longer pressed forcibly into the shoulder of his jinbaori. And yet now, more than anything, she wanted his security, his protection, his...

His words played through her mind, at last processing into sense.

_They won't take you away..._

"... Wh-what are you talking about? I'm not the..."

Something hard and painful struck her in the chest and constricted, as though some merciless hand were squeezing every last drop of blood from her heart. Her limbs, her body, sunk like a weight, limp and useless in his sturdy arms. Her face fell against the tear-stained cloth on his chest as she stared, unseeing, across the breadth of his black coat, surrounded by him-engulfed by him. Above her forehead, his throat trembled, convulsing in a hard swallow.

_No... No it... it can't be..._

Images rocketed through her mind, revelation making them even clearer than the day she'd first witnessed that horrible chain of events. Her mother's blood-stained body, still and lifeless, lying that way long before Simon ever slashed the blade downward. The dexterous swipe of his hand, as he knocked the murder weapon from her grasp... away from her little hands... away from her fingerprints. The black material of Simon's jacket as he held her close to his heart, weeping with her. The air whipping past her, as he dashed for the storage closet, making her promise not to leave until there was silence again. The way he'd slashed the blade down on her mother's body-not running even as the cops burst through the doorway, accusing him of murder.

And the last image... that cruel gag, clenched ruthlessly in his teeth, arms chained painfully behind his back. And blood, dripping from his forehead. Blood... staining that beautiful, white mark. The angel spot. _Her _spot.

"...Simon..." she whispered.

The court fell silent. Athena felt the eyes of a thousand spectators boring into her sides like red-hot brands, watching her every movement. But it didn't faze her. Slowly, she brought up her hand to his face, hesitating a moment. And then, gently, she touched the angel spot, threading the soft, wavy hair through her fingertips. Her fingers followed the curve of his face, until her palm rested against his jaw.

His hand smoothed back a strand of hair from her eyes, his face so calm, so patient, so... forgiving. As though forgiveness wasn't even on his mind. As though... there was nothing to forgive.

Her lip trembled until she ducked her head in shame, tears spilling to his boots, "S-simon... Why? ...W-w-why would y-you?"

His fingers brushed against her cheek, curling around the nape of her neck and gently pulling her close again. Clenching the front of his vest in helpless fists, Athena wept like a lost child, "I-I-I should be the o-o-one on d-death row... T-they w-would have a-accused m-me i-if you hadn't..."

He rubbed the base of her neck, "Shhhh..." he soothed. "It's alright... It's alright..."

The court watched, transfixed, uttering neither a growl of disapproval nor a sniffle of empathy, too far away to hear any words, yet watching the action unfold none-the-less. Even Edgeworth held his silence.

"How d-do you know..." Athena gritted out in helpless guilt, "th-that I-I'm not the k-killer a-after all? W-why w-w-would you r-risk your..." her voice broke, "...life for m-me?"

"I love you, Athena."

She slid her arms around his neck, just as she would have eight years ago, when her raven-haired prince would kneel to her level... and make her feel like a princess.

"I…I love you, Simon. So... so much... I'm s-so... s-s-sorry..."

"What is this?" Fulbright's indignant voice raged, wrenching Athena's perfect moment from her grasp. "Your Honor, this must not be allowed to continue. It's a disgrace to the court!"

"Silence," Blackquill growled. Behind him, the detective took a cautious step backwards.

Edgeworth polished his glasses, a regal smirk on his face. "The prosecution agrees with the defendant." Placing the glasses back on the bridge of his nose, he added, "Also, kindly remove your disgusting personage from the courtroom, officer. It offends me."

His voice quivering with rage, Fulbright shook his finger at the accused's exposed back, "This man is a cold-blooded dog! Are you all deaf? He confessed to the killing with his own lips. He's a master of manipulation, and now he's deceived this innocent girl into siding with him. She's as insane as he is!"

"_Objection!" _Phoenix roared, index finger extended to its maximum. "Confession or no, Simon Blackquill is innocent until the evidence proves otherwise. And you, Mr. Fulbright, are not the final authority of that."

From her position in Simon's arms, Athena raised her head, her voice clear, "Your Honor, Simon Blackquill is inn-_mmmphh_!"

Athena struggled to free her mouth as Simon pressed the back of her head firmly against his shoulder.

"Guilty as charged, Your Honor!" Simon roared, a growl in his voice that would have done a lion credit.

A burst of disbelieving outrage exploded from the crowd as they lunged to their feet. Phoenix's jaw hung open. Edgeworth froze, utterly taken aback.

Athena struggled like a fish on a line, her shouts muffled by the thick cloth at Simon's shoulder. "_Why? Why Simon? Why? You're innocent! No, please listen to me! Simon Blackquill is innocent. You have to believe me! Simooooooon!"_

The taunt smile on Fulbright's face was cold enough to freeze water, "I dislike repeating myself, judge, but I believe we just heard a second confession. At what point are you going to accept that this man has blood on his hands?"

A frown bent the judge's white eyebrows as he sighed, "You have a point, Mr. Fulbright. But we are still at a disadvantage here. We cannot allow harm to come to Miss Cykes."

"With your permission, Judge," Fulbright pulled back the slide on his drawn automatic, "I can put an end to this. Even a criminal his size wouldn't last a second with one of these bullets through his heart..." Then raising his voice, he added, "You hear me, Blackquill?"

Using her hands for leverage, Athena pressed her head as far back from Simon's coat as possible. With her mouth free, just enough to whisper, she strained against his iron grip, "S-simon... N-no... W-why are... you... doing... th-this?!"

"Insurance," his chest rumbled in time with his hushed voice. "They won't be able to accuse you if they believe I did it."

"But you... didn't-!"

"If my name is cleared, Fulbright will hound you down as the next suspect," his hands tightened against her, silent anger fueling his muscles. "You were the only other one present at the crime scene... and your prints were on the murder weapon, though I did my best to falsify an explanation for that in my confession. It would come up as conclusive evidence if you were accused."

"Stand down, officer!" Edgeworth's voice cut across the courtroom like a katana.

Athena became increasingly aware of the background conversation she had missed. More by instinct than sight, she knew that Fulbright had positioned himself behind Simon, gun cocked.

"Oh, don't worry your fancy ruffles, Prosecutor Edgeworth," the voice confirmed Athena's rising fears-Fulbright had to be right in front of her, with Simon acting as a human shield between them. "You won't have to get your pretty face dirty. Just stand back where you're safe behind your legal persona. You can tell the press whatever you like later."

Phoenix's hair stuck out sharp and menacing as he clenched his teeth and pounded the desk so hard he bruised, "Your Honor, I demand that you order this detective to be arrested for infringement, disrespect to the legal process, and overstepping the boundaries of the law!"

"Step back from the defendant, Mr. Fulbright," roared the judge, gavel pointed condemningly, as though he were some ancient prophet bringing judgment. "You are under contempt of court-of the highest degree, mind you!"

Athena's body wavered between intense rigidity and relaxed relief. Each moment, each exchange, seemed to alter the direction of Simon's fate. An image from long ago came to her mind-of Simon, kneeling at her mother's side, begging for help from what Athena only guessed was some divine entity.

"No offense, gramps," Fulbright grinned, "but you'll thank me for this later. This 'defendant' is a murderer, and if you're too old to see that, I'm taking justice into my own hands!"

_Please..._ she closed her eyes, her mind dragging back Simon's words from long ago. _Please... Dear God, help us. Help this man... this innocent man... I beg you. Don't let it end like this!_

"You are under arrest for your refusal to follow the law, as well as for your cheek, Mr. Fulbright!" The judge slammed down his gavel, "Guards, arrest him!"

The relief that rushed through Athena's body at the sound of approaching guards quickly transformed into a cold rush of fear. Simon whispered to her ear, so silently, that she almost thought she had imagined it, "Fulbright is the killer."

Shock rendered her speechless, as Simon twisted her around, his powerful hands working her into position.

Her back against his chest, Athena stuttered, "Simon... what are you doing...?"

"I'm sorry..."

Athena gasped as the length of chain tightened around her throat. Simon crossed his fists behind her head, locking the choke-hold in place. A sinewy hand locked across her mouth.

The crowd seemed to scream the inaudible words that she couldn't, as she coughed and gurgled against the cold, steel ring pressing into her windpipe. Her fingers pried vainly for a gap in the chain, struggling to open the ring around her neck, but the length was too taunt.

The crowd screamed a barrage of panic-ridden cries:

"He's going to kill that girl!"

"Do something! Stop him!"

"Save her!"

"Let her go, monster!"

Behind her, the advancing police froze, indecisively, on their way to arrest Fulbright. Athena felt tears of panic spring to her eyes. It felt so real... like Simon had turned on her at the last minute and stabbed her in the back. To the world, he was Simon Blackquill: cold-blooded murderer, who would slice up his victims just to watch them die.

But she knew the truth.

He wanted this. His dead body would crash to the floor before he would allow harm to come to her. He had already exchanged the prime of his life for eight years of imprisonment, all because he didn't want the weight of murder on her young shoulders.

He was her rescuer. Her prince. Her friend. Her...

"_Stop him-he'll kill that girl!_

"_Everyone, I must ask you to remain calm! Please-!"_

"_Kill him! Save that girl!"_

"_Murderer!"_

Athena felt his hot breath on the back of her head, as his mouth pressed against her scalp in a silent farewell kiss.

Words tumbled into her mind, as though imparted by that tender touch:

_I want you to have a future, Athena._

She swallowed against a hard lump in her throat-harder than the cruel steel that pressed against it, her eyes straight-forward and unseeing.

_I don't want a future without you, Simon._

She heard him inhale deeply, as though he knew it would be his last breath. He was breathing her scent... lab chemical, citrus conditioner... and the saltiness of her tears.

Something damp trickled against her hairline.

_Simon... are you crying?_

"It's... better this way," he murmured, uncrossing the chain from around her neck and releasing her mouth with unblinking speed.

The gunshot was the loudest sound Athena ever heard.

It ripped into her world, into her hopes and dreams... into the heart of Simon Blackquill.

"_Simon!"_ she shrieked like a wounded animal, arms tightening under his shoulders as he sank to the floor. Athena screamed every inch that his limp body dragged her down, until he lay sprawled against her shoulder. Cradling his gasping form to her chest, Athena glowered up at the shaded visage of Officer Fulbright as he raised the still-smoking gun.

"So one bullet wasn't enough to finish you after all, eh, Blackquill?" he sneered, aiming the gun down at them. "Move aside girl, and I'll put him out of his misery."

Time seemed to freeze over, as though every other form in the backdrop had solidified to stone, petrified by the cruel enigma this turnabout had brought.

Blood pooled across Athena's knees. Simon coughed weakly, spattering blood against her shoulder. Caressing the side of his face with her palm, Athena pressed him gently to her chest, bending low to shield his dying body with her own.

"Over my dead body... _murderer!" _ she growled, hot tears burning like rivers of lava from her flaming eyes.

A universal gasp arose from the crowd... and from Fulbright. But a demonic gnash of malice quickly masked his fear. With a quick jerk, he loaded another round, the nozzle of the gun just two feet from her body, as he lowered his voice, "So Blackquill told you the truth? What a shame. He played the murderer so well... and he was more than happy to do so. He knew what horrendous things I was capable of doing to the beloved daughter of my latest victim. I'm almost glad he'll have the pleasure of feeling your heart stop."

"You won't get away with it," Athena's voice was just loud enough for him to hear, competing with the noise of the crowd. "You'll prove what you are right here to the entire court, with the world as your witness!"

"Ah, but I'm a professional, little girl," he smiled, bearing a disgusting resemblance to the grin he'd worn when he'd found her in the closet eight years ago. "My finger slipped, you see. Or perhaps the gun fired on accident. I was only aiming at the criminal who was holding you against your will, even as he lay dying. I am the hero of this case, Athena Cykes. And you are a very foolish-and very dead-girl."

A powerful hand shoved against her collar as Simon Blackquill lunged from her arms, roaring, "_Fullbriiiiiiight!"_

Rooted to the spot, Athena could only watch in fascinated horror as Simon reared to his powerful legs like a veteran wolf, wounded and bleeding, but forcing himself once more into the fray. Rushing into Fulbright, he struck the gun to the side. It fired harmlessly into the base of the Prosecutor's bench. Wrenching the firearm from the officer's grip, Simon crushed it in his fist like a cheap toy and threw it to the ground. Fulbright wheeled backwards, sweat streaking his face and his chest heaving as the two stood facing each other like warriors in a death match.

"Confess..." Simon's breathing hitched as blood trickled from his mouth, "...to your crimes... murderer! Or I'll confess them… for you!"

A gasp of shock arose from the crowd.

Athena felt supporting arms envelop her, guiding her away from the dangerous showdown, "Athena, you OK?"

"Boss..." Athena felt her throat tighten, "Please... you've got to help Simon, he's-!"

"I know," Phoenix assured her. "I never believed he was truly guilty. And I think I have the evidence I need to prove my point now..."

"What...?" Athena gasped.

With a sarcastic bark of a laugh, Fulbright swaggered back and forth in front of his quarry in a false show of bravado, "Will you listen to this? The killer has just named _me_ a killer too. How convincing!" He paused, a cruel smile curving his jaw. "But just to appease you, for old time's sake, Blackquill, I _will_ tell them the truth... The truth..." He shot an index finger in Athena's direction, "...about that girl!"

"Silence!" Blackquill snarled.

"Then shut me up, if you can," Fulbright raised his eyebrows in amusement. Then turning to address the crowd, he explained, "That girl was the only other one at the scene of the crime. It has become clear to me that when we found the defendant standing over the severed body with the bloody sword, he was merely taking the fall for her. The girl clearly killed her own mother and used the so-called 'healing chair' to try and hide the remains by dismembering what was left. As you can see-_gak!"_

Like a pouncing lion, Simon was on top of Fulbright, whipping his manacled wrists over the officer's head, and pulling the chain taunt. Only this time, the links wedged deeply across Fulbright's open mouth, rendering his words into meaningless sputtering.

Simon leaned close to his ear, his voice dangerously calm, "Just for old time's sake, Fulbright."

Athena instantly envisioned Simon and the cruel instrument that Fulbright had ordered used on him when he was arrested. A buckle gag, he'd called it. Now, Athena could only watch as poetic justice unfolded.

Thrusting his prisoner against the side of the prosecutor's bench, Blackquill threw his whole weight against him. Planting his elbows against his captive's shoulders, Simon forced Fulbright face-down on the flat surface, all the while keeping his wrists strained high and pulling the chain taunt. He put on a tough face-the face, Athena realized, that Simon had forced himself to wear in order to act the part of the killer all these years. But she noticed the horrible way that his legs shuddered under him. Blood spread across the back of his black coat in a damp patch, streaking down both legs and spilling on the ground beneath him. Simon wasn't forcing his body weight on Fulbright intentionally. He had literally collapsed on top of him.

"Officers, break up that squabble before someone is permanently hurt!" the judge leaned over the balcony railing.

As the police rushed the two figures, locked together over the Prosecution's bench, Phoenix let loose the courtroom battlecry, "_Objection! _Your Honor, we have evidence that what the defendant says is true! Fulbright is the killer!"

"Whoa now!" the judge flailed his arms, "Cease there, officers! Desist! What's that they say in court...?"

"_Hold it!" _Edgeworth bellowed.

Everyone froze.

Crossing his arms resignedly, Edgeworth nodded at Phoenix, "You may continue, Wright. But make it quick. This one's going to need medical attention fast. I suggest that someone call the em-"

"S-simon!" Athena began to dash over to them, but Phoenix caught her shoulder and shook his head.

"There's nothing you can do for him, Athena," he told her. "Call 911 and request emergency transport. It's the only way you'll be able to help him now."

Jerking out her mobile, Athena punched in the number, praying for a miracle with every stand-by ring.

As she continued the call, striving to keep panic and tears out of her voice, Phoenix watched Edgeworth make his way around his own bench while unknotting the cravat from his neck. Laying a hand carefully on Simon's back, Edgeworth observed a ripple of pain spread through his body like a shock, "Easy there," he commanded.

Wadding the thick cravat into a ball, the prosecutor pressed it against the pouring wound. Simon grunted softly as new lances of pain compressed the bullet-point in his back. Beneath him, Fulbright struggled to break free, but to no avail, uttering a thousand garbled curses.

"You'll cease your struggling if you know what's good for you, officer," Edgeworth said with the same tone of voice he'd use over a luncheon tea-and-table chat. "Just be content that Mr. Blackquill chose to gag you, rather than break your neck."

Raising his voice, Edgeworth turned calmly to the officers on standby, "We need something to stop the bleeding-a towel, blanket, or even a coat will do. He's going into shock."

"Mr. Edgeworth," blinked the judge, "I didn't know you were such a doctor."

"It's basic elementary, Your Honor," Edgeworth answered as the guards ran to retrieve a more suitable clotting agent.

Phoenix rose to his full height, "Your Honor, if I may...?"

"Oh, yes!" quipped the judge, swinging a distracted finger, "Your evidence. Go on, Mr. Wright. I think it's time we saw an end to this case."

Phoenix took a slow breath, as though forcing himself to be calm, before continuing, "It's all quite simple, Your Honor." Slapping his desk, he projected a hologramic screen with a close up of an old document-evidence previously submitted in the case. "You may remember that Mr. Fulbright, or should I say, Mr. Not-So-Bright, submitted this to the court earlier..."

Edgeworth pushed the glasses up his nose with his free hand, scrutinizing the display.

Athena uttered a breathless, "Yes, the county courthouse. Please hurry!" into her cellphone and rushed over to Simon's side, completely unobserved by the rest of the court.

Stroking his cheek with trembling fingers, Athena stared deep into his eyes-distant, still, and lusterless, "Simon... _please..._ hold on... If you... die, I'll... I'll die!"

Edgeworth's heavy hand fell on her shoulder, "If you die, you'll be even less use to him," he uttered, stern and grave. Seizing a thick cloth from an approaching guard, Edgeworth thrust it into her hands, "Now isn't the time for theatrics, young lady. Hold that to the wound, and don't release pressure or he will bleed to death. Do you understand?"

Her tears quenched as though by an icy blast, Athena nodded dumbly, forcing the cloth against the bleeding. Simon did not respond to the touch, though his elbows still pinned the back of Fulbright's shoulders to the bench, arms stretched above his neck, pulling the chain to its max, as though locked that way in a death grip. His head lay sideways against the officer's back, his face unresponsive, eyes staring far away and lifeless, dark hair as still as stone against his pale cheek. Athena forced herself to look down-look at her hands and the cloth that was leeching up more and more of Simon's precious lifeblood every moment. She knew if she saw that unmoving, calm face again... saw the dust-motes dancing in the stillness, like snow above that unstirring, ebony hair...

Shutting her eyes, she concentrated on forming the cloth into a tight ball, imagining it as a malleable plug that could fill the pouring hole and dam it closed.

"...and my final, most incriminating point-" the voice of Phoenix Wright cut into her senses, but she dared not let her focus stray from the dying man beneath her. "-is this evidence that Fulbright used to incarcerate Mr. Blackquill!"

Jabbing an index finger at the restrained detective, Phoenix's voice burned with rage, "Simon Blackquill had no motive to kill Mrs. Cykes. He loved her like a mother, and losing his position to his older sister was not incentive for him to kill. Here in this document..." Phoenix zoomed in and underlined a sentence on the hologram document, "you may notice something odd. _This _sentence is discontinued. Why?"

Slamming on his desk again, a second hologram appeared, looking like a clone of the first, "Can you see the difference? No?" Phoenix drilled the audience. Flipping over both pages, the difference became instantly clear. The copy that Fulbright had presented had a blank back, whereas the second copy revealed another page to the letter, written in fine penmanship.

A series of off-guard gasps ricocheted through the courtroom.

"That's right!" Phoenix punctuated with a fisted slam on the table top, "Fulbright's copy is a _fake!_ But ironically, the real copy was also in his possession. I came across it while searching through his personal belongings a few hours ago. And it gets better...!"

The detective squirmed violently beneath his avenger, struggling to break free. Athena kicked at Fulbright's leg, "Hold still, you snake!" she hissed.

"The other side is a continuation of the letter from Mr. Blackquill to Metis Cykes," Phoenix continued, "explaining his request to hire his sister in his place. Apparently, his sister had fallen on hard times and was unable to get enough money to support herself after her husband's untimely death. Of course, the version that Mr. Fulbright presented tells quite a different story. And then there's this..."

Scanning the page with ultraviolet light, the image inverted colors, revealing a heat-stamped image-a message and a fingerprint. Data sprang to life in mid-air, presented on hologramic displays. A scanner flashed over the fingerprint, pulling up a profile as it lilted in a feminine, robotic voice, "Identity: Robert "Bobby" A. Fulbright. Age: 35. Occupation: Local Detective. Match rate: 100%."

Another pop-up clarified the infer-red message that had been revealed on the page. Phoenix read it aloud, "'I cannot afford to have my identity revealed. Keep your silence, or I will be your silencer.' And signed by 'the Phantom.' The same identity as our mysterious killer. Fulbright's true identity..." Phoenix's hair bristled as he raged, "is the _Phantom! _Mr. Blackquill wrote this letter and set it on Metis Cykes' desk. Fulbright needed to write a quick threat-letter and so he snatched it up, leaving a hidden message that he knew Metis would see under the laboratory's infer-red lighting!_"_

The courtroom did not erupt. It did not gasp or stir with shock. It simply... stopped. The world stopped. It was the sound of a million silences. The sound of the world holding its breath.

His voice hushed in reverence of the sacred truth, Pheonix bowed his head, his fingers plying at the golden badge over his heart, "That, Your Honor and witnesses of the court, is the truth. 'Bobby' Fulbright is the Phantom. He's the real killer."

The courtroom doors burst asunder as a stream of men in blue and white uniforms filed in, towing a stretcher and a barrage of other medical equipment. Edgeworth respectfully stepped aside to allow them access to the wounded man, but nobody else stirred... almost as if they didn't even notice.

Athena clenched her fists together as she watched Simon being lifted onto the white transporter that would soon be red with his blood. As officers came forward to secure the breathless Fulbright, one of them stepped over to the stretcher, withdrawing a ring of keys from his pocket.

Removing the glasses from his nose, Edgeworth folded them and tucked them in the lining of his suit, "The prosecution rests, Your Honor." He said with finality.

Athena held her breath as the officer inserted the key into the massive cuffs that had bound Simon's wrists for the duration of the trial. With a ring like the knell of freedom, the shackles crashed to the floor, filling the courtroom with the most beautiful sound Athena had ever heard.

Simon was free. Not only of his physical chains, but also of his mental and emotional ones that he had carried for eight years. The chains that bound his heart, his personality, his image, his being, his love... each link had been torn asunder, never again to reform.

A medic secured a breathing mask to Simon's face while another pierced the crook of his arm with a life-saving IV. He never flinched, his eyes unseeing and still, gazing far off into the rafters, gazing after his spirit, which had always been free.

Had his spirit already flown to the heavens? Like a hawk, relishing in the power of its wings, taking to the sky, flying into the sun, until it was swallowed by the blinding light around it?

Was it... too late?

As Simon's body disappeared behind the courtroom doors, the judge laid his gavel aside, his voice soft, but loud enough to hear clearly in the silence.

"Not guilty," he said.

* * *

Athena paced down the hall, scanning the bold numbers stamped above the hospital doors.

...366... 367...

Stopping, she crept up to the doorframe, laying a cautious hand against the post and leaning forward to peek inside. The room within was dim, lit only by a small table lamp off to the side, its faint rays shimmering along the glossy tile in undulating waves. The edge of a bed jutted out beyond a concealing wall, making nothing more than a thick rear-rest and barred safety rail visible. But Athena couldn't miss the twin humps raising the white sheets at its base, a sign that the bed was occupied.

Treading lightly, Athena stepped forward, feeling the soothing darkness encompassing her with its quiet embrace. As she advanced, more sights became visible. An IV bag dripped methodically, following its course down a snake-like tube into its recipient. Somewhere nearby, she could hear the drumming _click, click, click_ of a heart-rate monitor as it measured pulse in its rhythmic waves.

She hesitated at the corner of the protruding wall.

It had been three days since Simon had been shot, and they'd only now allowed her to see him. Up until this point, his room was restricted to doctors only.

What would she see when she rounded the corner? What kind of Simon would she find? How much of him was even left after the damage that the horrible gunshot wound had done?

Steeling herself with a shaky breath, Athena stepped around the corner.

Simon lay on his back, his upper body raised slightly on the bed's incline and draped by a bed sheet up to his waist.. His obsidian tresses cascaded across the white pillow and spilled down his broad shoulders. A series of nodes, fastened to his open-shirted chest, rose and fell with his steady breathing.

He looked so peaceful. Like a child, safe in the arms of sleep, or a young man in the refreshing sleep of exhaustion after a hard day's labor. Athena paused, staring, captivated by the relentless calm on his face, and realized for the first time that she'd never seen him sleeping before. It was utterly... beautiful. And somehow, so comforting, seeing him finally at peace with himself.

Unsure how to proceed, Athena took a step forward, daring to whisper, "Simon...?"

Her hand brushed against something at waist height. A large, feathery form rustled its wings as it stirred. Athena stifled a gasp of pleasant surprise at the sight of the faithful hawk, blinking away sleep, claws fastened firmly around its perch.

"Taka!" she grinned, reaching out to scratch his little head, "I guess I'm not the first visitor after all."

The hawk arched its beak downward, relishing the rewarding strokes.

"No, but... you're certainly the prettiest."

Athena's hand froze as she turned her head back to the bedside. Simon met her with a faint smile-both weary and pleased-but completely genuine.

"S-simon..." Athena felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, her face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment. A million retorts rushed through her head. A million more questions begged to be answered, but she couldn't possibly decide which one to ask first.

Climbing onto the bed, careful to avoid the wires and tubes that connected Simon to the machines, she took one of his mighty hands between her smaller ones. Such incredibly strong hands... such gentle, guiding hands. Though she'd grown much during their eight years apart, it still took both of her hands to embrace just one of his.

A million memories spilled into her mind, along with the fresh tears that spilled down her face. She couldn't rid herself of a simple moment in time, eight years ago-Simon taking her by the hand, guiding her gently back to bed one night when she couldn't sleep, promising he'd stay by her all night. That morning, she'd awoken with him sitting in a chair next to her, still holding her small hand, her fingers locked around three of his. Eight years... that's how much of his life he'd sacrificed for her. It was the prime of his life, and he'd given it up... for a worthless, insignificant girl named Athena Cykes. A girl who would believe a lie for eight years-that Simon Blackquill had betrayed her and killed her mother. She would curse his name, spit in his face, envision the ultimate torture as she wrecked her vengeance...

Her shoulders rocked in helpless sobs as she wrenched her hands away from his to cover her face, "I'm so sorry! Simon, I...! I hated you... I hated you so much... I... I don't deserve you... Why would you... do that... for _me_?"

She heard the bed creak as he sat up and gently pulled her hands from her face. Cupping her cheek with one hand, he raised her head up again. His thumb moved tenderly beneath her eye, wiping away a trail of tears.

"I never blamed you," he whispered. "I loved the little 'thena who opened my eyes to a beautiful world of light and laughter. And I love the Athena you've become-a beacon of light in our dark judicial system."

Lifting a hand, Athena let her fingers slide around his palm at her cheek, holding it there as she closed her eyes. She wanted to remember this moment, always.

His fingers curled around her neck, pulling her closer into a warm embrace. With her eyes still closed, Athena put her arms around his chest, letting her cheek nuzzle against his neck. For the first time since that day eight years ago, she felt his security and warmth... and the love that had never changed for her, despite years of misunderstanding and separation.

Drawing back from his sturdy embrace, Athena traced the curve of his jawline with her hand, gazing deep into his eyes-those piercing, valiant hawk eyes. Eyes that feared neither death nor life... nor hatred... nor pain... nor the betrayal of the world itself. They were eyes that loved and protected, watching always, like a stealthy guardian, so full of life and silent suffering. She loved those eyes.

"How do you feel?" she smiled.

"Free," he answered.

A shy laugh escaped her lips, as she met the unwavering strength in that hawk gaze, "So do I."

Then leaning forward, Athena pulled him close, and kissed the angel spot.


End file.
